On this day a man was born who would change things.  A match when struck that lit the whole world with courage.  That courage could dwindle when we look and see who sits in some seats of power these days.  That courage could seem to have been lost when we look around and see hunger still perpetuating in our neighborhoods, when merely the cold can kill people – much less the deadly assault weapons the NRA pays so dearly to hold onto.  That courage still however, resides.  En masse.  That you can see in the hearts of those who march, more and more and more in the latest of years.  Marches and protests and rallies and sit-ins and phone calls and letters and inundations of people waking up to the need for a participatory democracy.  The need for them to speak up for themselves.  No one else is going to do it for you.  We may differ in our approach to ideal leadership; however we do not disagree that everyone should eat and live and prosper in a way one sees fit.  Where poverty doesn’t damper someones passion for life.  Where race does not determine whether or not you get a job.  Where sex doesn’t determine whether or not you will succeed at being… an actress… a truck driver… a political leader.

We all have dreams and should have equal access to making those dreams happen and in order to make this a reality, we must have courage.  I remember the legacy of DrMLK today as a person (of many) who went above and beyond merely what he alone could do, and fought for what WE could do, together, with others and for ourselves.  While mountains of oppression are inevitable to fail, we have to know that to take the first steps toward liberation means we must see ourselves as worthy.  Those steps are more than voting.  More than praying.  More than hope.  They are filled with inertia, gratitude, forgiveness, giving, compassion, dedication, discipline, and pro-active love.

Live today for today.  But live tomorrow for the good of humanity and the only planet we’ll ever get.


I am not special, but I am unique

A blessing, still a child in so many ways

Stuck because of forgetting where the exits are,

Where’s that damned fire marshal?

I am my own Compass

And I must remember the exits are an illusion just as much as the ground beneath me.

This child still feels the cold

The hunger and the hold of alien hands.

This child still knows alone as if it were her only kin.

This woman is learning what fills her cup and how to hold it in the rain for water and how to hold it in the fire for sustenance.

This woman is breathing in the tools of remembrance, one step at a time.

One moment to the very next,

one owl hoot to the next sweeping call of the crow from above.

The love is real



Remember it.

It is older than you

Older than us

Older than we can know